


The Auction

by Neverever



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Auctions, Christmas Cards, F/M, Holidays, Reminiscing, Steggy Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 02:36:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9154105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neverever/pseuds/Neverever
Summary: Peggy finds out that a card Steve gave her back in 1945 has been put up for auction.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A Steggy Secret Santa gift for philinda-clintasha -- hope you like it!
> 
> Big thanks to my beta, arms_plutonic, for her help.

Susan, Peggy’s secretary, brought in the mail, including the auction catalog with Howard’s note attached. Considering that anything that Howard sent her way always meant tricky work for her, Peggy picked up the catalog with a surprised sigh. Her love-hate relationship with Howard now spanned decades and automatically she looked at anything he did or said with a heaping serving of skepticism, a side of concern, and a dash of fear. 

The attached note simply stated: “Page 98 and call me.”

Rolling her eyes, she turned to page 98. And immediately shouted, “Susan, get me Howard.”

“He’s traveling --”

“I don’t care where he is, even it’s on a desert island with no phone service. Get me Howard.”

One hour later, it turned out that Howard was expecting her call. “Peggy, always great to hear from you. How’s the family?” Howard said over the crackling phone line.

“Is this some sort of joke?” she snapped.

“I guess you’ve seen the auction catalog,” he replied.

She glanced down at the page with photographs of a hand-drawn Christmas card. “Yes.”

“It’s the real thing. I’ve had people look into it.”

Peggy knew that it was the real thing. She would have known that card anywhere. It was a simple folded piece of paper covered in drawings by one Steve Rogers with the message Merry Christmas 1944 on the front, but it was priceless to her. 

“Howard, that card was stolen back in ‘45.”

“I know. That’s what I told Sotheby's when I asked them to remove the card from the auction.” Howard sighed. “But they claimed they had a indisputable chain of provenance for the card and my lawyers couldn’t stop the sale. You know how it is.”

Peggy would give up her two-week African vacation next summer or take out a second mortgage on the house or call in a favor or two or several. Anything to pay for the card.

“Don’t worry about the money, Peggy. I’ve got it covered.”

“You do?”

“Come up to New York for the auction and we’ll stay at the Fifth Avenue apartment. Maria would love company since Tony’s at school.”

“Howard -- you know --”

“Nothing like New York in December. You could get your Christmas shopping done.”

Susan appeared in the doorway. “Alexander Pierce is here -- he wants you to meet a Nick Fury, who’s with him.”

Right. Fury, one of Pierce’s new finds. And Pierce probably also wanted to talk about plans for the Triskelion. That was going to take a chunk out of her afternoon. 

“Just a minute, Susan,” Peggy replied.

She glanced at the card again. If they didn’t intervene, the card was likely destined to a private collector and she'd never see it again. 

“Howard? I’ll be in New York for the auction.”

“Great! See you soon, Carter.”

~~~~~

They didn’t spend Christmas in London. SSR operatives were spread out all over the Allied parts of the continent, and last Peggy knew was that Steve was caught up in some action near Bastogne. The Howling Commandos’ mission was so secret and sensitive that she preferred to push anything she knew out of her mind.

So she didn’t suspect anything when Phillips showed up at her desk looking like the cat who caught the canary. “Carter, what are your plans tonight?”

She pointedly looked at the pile of recent intelligence gathered about HYDRA. “Reading.”

“Do that tomorrow. We’re going to Christmas party,” he replied. “I’ve got a couple of the girls working on setting something up. Rogers and his boys could use a little Christmas when they get here.”

“Sir?”

“Another Captain America miracle. Rogers radioed that the mission was a complete success.”

Peggy’s heart raced at the mention of Steve’s name. Not that she should show any partiality to Steve in front of Phillips, who chuckled all the time when he saw them together. “Right.”

“I mean it, Carter. No work after 1600 today. Party at 1900. Debriefing at 800 tomorrow.”

She heard about Steve’s arrival back at SSR headquarters long before she saw him. Not that she was anticipating his return at all -- she did have to reapply the lipstick and blush and pin up escaping hair as part of her day after all. It was always a good idea to get up and walk around headquarters, just to take a break from data analysis. That’s how she heard about Steve being in Phillips’ office.

She saw him sitting tall and straight in his chair, likely delivering a short report. His hair shone like spun gold under the harsh office lights. She didn’t know why she’d care about his hair when what she wanted to know was whether he had destroyed the HYDRA base. Whether he’d come home unhurt.

Phillips waved her in. “Carter, see -- like I said, Captain Rogers finished the mission earlier than expected.”

“Good to see that we’re having continuing success again HYDRA,” she replied. It took all she had in her to not stare at Steve.

“Agent Carter,” Steve said with a nod.

“Both of you -- well, get ready for the party. No work after 1600 -- that’s an order, Carter,” Phillips said. He smiled at them.

“So you’re back early?” Peggy asked as they left the office.

Steve shrugged. “What can I say? We hit the base hard and they collapsed.”

“I suppose that Phillips had a lot of questions --”

“I’ve been told we’ll talk about it tomorrow morning. Tonight we’re having a turkey dinner.”

“Turkey?”

“I have no idea how he got his hands on one,” Steve said. “Phillips has his sources.” He ducked his head as he glanced over at Peggy. 

“We have more intel on another base near --”

“Rogers!” Howard greeted him from the end of the hallway. “I have something to show you -- and Morita too. New radios for everyone!”

Steve looked torn. She put him out of his misery. “Duty calls. I’ll see you later.”

“You bet,” Steve replied with that beautiful smile of his.

~~~~~

Peggy arrived at LaGuardia Airport to be whisked away by a Stark Industries chauffeur to Howard’s apartment. Howard had long ago sold off a number of his city properties, including the mansion that Peggy had lived in briefly after the war. She wanted to visit his house in Malibu, but when he moved to California, Howard had put up a large walls between his personal life and his work for the government and SHIELD. 

Her husband, a man who had put up with years of classified SHIELD business, was angry that she was spending the middle of December miles away from home and with Howard Stark. Peggy didn’t tell him why she was going to New York. While her husband didn’t trust Howard as far he could throw him, he tended to get surly when Steve Rogers was mentioned.

Rogers had died years ago but remained a ghost in their marriage, a reminder of other times and places and another Peggy that her husband didn’t know. She could tell him -- and had for years -- that Rogers was in the past but, in his heart of hearts, he never believed her.

Maria greeted her warmly when she arrived at the apartment. Howard found the perfect woman for himself. Granted, Howard had made sure that he had all the opportunities in the world to met the perfect woman. But Maria had no idea of the amount of SHIELD work Howard still did. Especially when Maria only knew Peggy as a friend of Howard’s from the war.

Over dinner, Howard told her everything he knew about the card. He’d gotten a call from a dealer who sold Captain America memorabilia. The man had heard a rumor about a few personal effects of Captain Rogers going up for auction and wanted to know if Howard wanted them. 

“I figured you’d want to have the card back.”

“I’m prepared to pay anything to get the card back.”

Howard shook his head. “If you’re seen bidding, the price will go up astronomically. Your interest will give that card a stamp of approval and everyone will know that it’s really Steve’s. I’ve made Sotheby's back down from putting Captain America in the description -- if I hadn’t intervened, that card would have been on the cover of the catalog and we’d be spending at least a million to get it.”

“It’s my card, Howard -- Steve made it for me and I intend to get it back.”

“And I’m here to help you. I have a representative who will be bidding on our behalf.”

“I can pay --”

“No,” Howard said firmly. “Consider it several overdue Christmas presents. I owe you, Peggy. Just go with it.”

~~~~~

When the clock chimed 1600, Peggy looked regretfully at the pile of intelligence waiting on her desk. The Allies were winning the war, and with one good damn shove SSR could push the Red Skull back into the oblivion he deserved. But she knew Phillips well, and he was serious about his staff taking the night off. So down went her folders and papers and pen and off she went to freshen up and change her uniform shirt.

Phillips and the secretarial pool had managed to pull together a fairly festive party in a couple of hours. Peggy stood with a warm cup of punch considering the buffet. “Turkey?”

“Close enough to turkey to count,” Dum-Dum said cheerfully as he loaded his plate. “Beats field rations any day.”

Steve was late, of course. Could be Howard talked his ear off, or people had questions for him. If he wasn’t in the field fighting HYDRA, he was busy at base planning and strategizing and training. They all put in hours and hours of work, barely sleeping and eating, doing what they had to to fight HYDRA.

Nice to have a small party, even if Christmas had been last week. Nicer now that Steve was here. 

“How's the buffet?” he asked as he joined her in line.

“There’s food,” she replied honestly. “And a lot of it.”

Steve loaded up his plate. “Bucky needs to hurry up if he wants dinner.”

The Howling Commandos always had great stories to tell, and Dugan had the room in stitches after a few minutes. Peggy and a quietly laughing Steve locked eyes. 

“Did that really happen?” she asked.

“Mostly. But I don’t remember the goat,” Steve replied. 

Bucky sat down next to Steve. “Phillips is just fattening us up before we ship out tomorrow.”

“A rumor about Zola,” Steve explained to Peggy. “But you likely already know that.”

She thought back to the pile of intel on her desk. They’d been tracking Zola’s movements for the past month. Phillips was working on isolating the HYDRA high command.

“You showed up in time to keep Dugan honest,” Steve joked to Bucky.

“Hah,” Bucky snorted. “As long as he keeps calling me the best sniper in the business, I’m not complaining.”

“What are you doing after the party?” Steve asked her.

“Going back to work,” she said honestly.

“Maybe we could --”

“Cap, tell us how exactly you blew up that car,” Dugan called out. “We can’t figure it out.”

And with that, Peggy lost Steve to the crowd.

~~~~~

“So Pierce wants to build an office building in DC for SHIELD?” Howard said in a low voice.

They were sitting in the second to last row in the Sotheby's auction room. Howard’s agent was sitting closer to the front. They were halfway through the auction, and the card hadn’t come up for bidding yet. Peggy hadn’t been this nervous in years. So many things could go wrong, like the family pulling the card and other trinkets from the auction. 

“We’re working on the permits now. And it’s not just for SHIELD -- it’s for the World Security Council too.”

Howard nodded. “I suppose Pierce is empire building -- we need to be careful around him.” Another lot was announced and he dutifully checked it off his list. “What do you think about the rest of the items supposed to be Steve’s?”

“They aren’t.” Peggy said, shaking her head. “Doesn't seem like anything he’d own.”

“I think those items were faked. Every now and then something comes on the market that was Steve’s -- like when Dugan’s family sold some memorabilia to pay for his medical bills last year -- but most of it is fake junk. Captain America memorabilia is rare big business.”

The lot with the card was announced. The auctioneer, true to Howard’s word, described the card as a 1944 card designed by a WWII US Army officer, a Captain Rogers. Unlike Howard, Peggy noted that the room perked up at the lot announcement and a number of people looked ready to bid. They knew and she knew what that card was. 

“Bidding starts at 1000. Who will give me a thousand for this lovely manuscript?”

“A thousand?” she whispered to Howard as paddles shot up around the room.

“They have bids in hand,” Howard replied. “We’ll see how sustainable they are.”

Bidding increased steadily and Howard’s agent, a young man in a conservative suit, reliably matched every bid. After a few rounds, the bidding was at 50 thousand. Peggy grimly realized that if she was dependent on her own resources, she would have had to drop out already. 

“Hmmm,” Howard said as the price rose steadily. “We’re not getting this cheap. Guess people figured it out.” He sat tensely in his seat, listening to the bids. He pointed out the phone bank alongside the room. “Those are the phone bids.”

Peggy sat frowning. As far she could tell, there were five bidders now -- two in the room and three on the phone. The bidding was at $80,000. Interested people had seen through the auction house’s polite fiction about the real identity of the card’s creator.

She couldn’t imagine Howard would be willing to pay all much more than $100,000 for the card. That was a lot of money -- she hadn’t paid that for her house in Arlington twenty years ago and that was a house with a bit of land.

Howard sucked in a breath when the bidding sailed past $110,000. One of the phone bidders finally dropped out, down to four. Bidding went up to $125,000. Another bidder dropped out. Howard’s agent kept lifting his paddle at each new bid. 

“We’re not going to lose this, Pegs,” Howard said determinedly.

Peggy had inched closer and closer to the edge of her seat as the bidding kept going and the price kept rising. She wrung her program into knots as the price hit $250,000 and there were only two bidders -- a phone bidder and Howard’s agent. No one would recognize her as the agent famous for having ice water in her veins, considering how nervous she was.

Howard put his hand on her arm. “We’ve got this.”

The agent was the last man standing at $300,000, and Howard slapped Peggy on the back. “See, what did I tell you?”

After Howard paid for the lot, a Sotheby's representative handed the card over to Peggy. She slipped the card out of the envelope and marveled at the fragility of the paper. 

The representative asked, “Please tell me -- was this card really drawn by Captain America?”

Stung by the slight doubt in the man’s voice, Peggy sniffed. “Yes. It was a gift to me. So I most certainly know that Captain Rogers made it.”

Howard had his usual shit-eating grin on his face because he had won at something and also likely that he now had something on Peggy.

“I hate being in your debt, Howard,” she said, still carefully cradling the card in her hands.

“Forget it, Peggy. I owe you too much.”

She nodded. “I won’t forget this, Howard, any time soon.”

Howard said nothing for a few minutes. “The card’s back where it should be, Peggy. Steve wanted it that way.”

~~~~~

Steve found her back at her desk.

Peggy had a nagging feeling about that intel. They needed that information if Steve and the Commandos were heading back out to the field. So she snuck out of the party back to work. Phillips might be angry, but damn it all, she needed to get this information to her friends even if she had to work all night long.

“Agent Carter,” Steve said in that way that set off butterflies in her stomach. 

She looked up from her work at Steve’s brilliant, beautiful smile. “Captain Rogers.”

He slid a card across the desk. “I have something for you.”

“For me? I’m flattered,” she teased. She slipped the card out of the handmade envelope.

“I, um, had something else, but I lost it somehow on the way back. Sorry about that.”

Peggy opened the card and gasped. Steve had drawn over every inch of the small folded piece of paper. Beautiful little doodles of the SSR offices and people, in Steve’s precise and fluid linework, featuring Peggy in the field or at her desk. There was a tiny drawing of all the Howling Commandos throwing snowballs and one of Phillips scowling. It was gorgeous and perfect, especially the Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. 

“Oh, Steve, this is -- this is wonderful.”

He smiled shyly at her. “I wish it could have been more.”

“What -- like nylons and chocolate?” She laughed. “This is perfect.”

“I expect that 1945 will be a better year than we’ve had in a long time. The end of the war --”

She smiled fondly at him. “Is just around the corner.”

“There’s still a lot of work to do to get there,” he replied. He ran a finger around the desk. “But afterwards, maybe we could go --”

Dugan showed up in the doorway. “Hey, Cap, Phillips wants to talk to you. And you too, Carter. News about HYDRA.”

Steve replied, “We’re coming.” He turned back to Peggy and said, regretfully, “Duty calls.”

“There’s still a war on,” she agreed. 

As they left the office, Steve’s hand brushed against hers. She turned to Steve, only to see him duck his head again, awkward and bashful even after the serum. So close, and yet so far away. He licked his lips, and glanced down at her. 

“Peggy,” he whispered. She closed her eyes, leaning forward towards Steve, ready for that kiss she’d been waiting all her life for. 

“Phillips is now yelling for you, Captain,” Dugan repeated from the doorway.

She opened her eyes as Steve sighed. 

“Duty calls,” he said.

1945 had to be the year that she finally got to kiss Steve Rogers.

~~~~~

When she got back to DC a couple of days before Christmas, Peggy put the card in its little paper envelope in a box in her closet. If she looked at it again, she’d start crying. She didn’t cry now, worn down by years of loss and pain. But Steve. Steve always would be a weak spot for her.

Returning from work, her husband found Peggy sitting in front of the television surrounded by VCR tapes, with a large, nearly empty bottle of vodka and a couple of shot glasses. Peggy was now on her fifth Captain America documentary and had tears streaming down her face.

“You’re back,” he said. 

Peggy blinked a couple of times. She wasn’t a young woman, and she knew that she would be paying for the alcohol in the morning. “I went to an auction and Howard bought me a card.”

“A card?”

“Steve made it for me and some bastard stole it from our base in Germany after HYDRA surrendered. I think that the bastard’s kids made some money off of Howard and I’m pissed about that.”

“I’m sure Howard can handle it. So, you’re giving the card to the Smithsonian?”

“No.” Peggy frowned. “I’m not talking about it ever again, Dan. It happened and it’s over.” She reached for the VCR remote control to turn off the documentary. She couldn’t stand the pseudo-biographical films Hollywood churned out every ten years.

“Peggy -- maybe --”

She sat up straighter on the couch. “I’m being too indulgent for words now and I have work to do tomorrow.”

“I’ll pick up Connie and the kids at Dulles,” Dan said gently.

Peggy nodded sharply. Back to the world, and away from Howard, who had a knack for dragging up the exact wrong memories. She wouldn’t have to see him for long time, and only for SHIELD business at that. 

“I’ll take care of everything else,” she said.

Her husband paused in the doorway. “Peg, it’s okay.”

She wanted to say -- no, it’s not okay and it hasn’t been okay since the end of March 1945, and it’s never going to be okay. But she had family to deal with and a husband to boot and a desk full of work and an organization to keep running and agents to train. No rest for the weary.

“What do you want for dinner?” she asked as she stood up. “Leftovers fine with you?”


End file.
